The Battle Of Life - A Somber Memory
by harlequin4ever
Summary: The life of Doctor Harleen Quinzel. It's not so tough being a Clown. Not all Clown's smile. Be careful, those teeth are sharp, and this Clown bites. Such as a city as Gotham. Nothing is what it seems. Everyone has their secrets. But don't stand too close or you'll be burned...
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: The Beginning Of Something Wonderful  
**

Harleen Frances Quinzel.  
Born May 24th, 1988, 2:02am.  
Gotham General Hospital, Gotham City, America.

Mother: Cecelia Jane Carey-Quinzel  
Father: Henry Regan Quinzel  
Brother: Luke Jeremiah Quinzel

It was a relatively normal day when Cecelia gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. 32 hours in labour and Harleen Frances Quinzel was introduced to the world. Henry and Luke were so excited; they waited anxiously for hours, bouncing around the hospital. Finally, they held their little angel in their arms. Months flew by and The Quinzel's were a loving happy family. Her brother Luke always ran home from school, anxious to see his little sister. He would make funny faces at her and try to teach her how to talk.

By the time she started primary school, her life was relatively normal. Couple of friends, nice teachers and she never got into trouble. In middle school she started to worry about her parents. Things were hard on the whole household and Luke wasn't always there for her. It got worse. Her mother started drinking and her father always got into a fight. Slowly making it through high school, she had only a few friends and was still getting good grades. She wasn't a nerd or a geek; she just kept her head down and studied. Her best subjects were sports, art and drama.

Finding out her father was arrested for murder, break and enter, drug dealing and assaulting a police officer, he was sentenced to a life sentence in prison. Her mother drank herself away and she never saw much of Luke after he moved out. Deciding that she was the only one she could ever trust, she threw herself into school. Becoming the best cheerleader and the top of the class for gym, her teachers all offered her after school activities. She stared in a play for drama, her finest work went on display at the local art gallery and she gained a scholarship for gymnastics and cheer leading at Gotham Collage.

She met new people, found a part time job and the diner, looked after herself and made a life out of what she had left. After coming home late from work, she walked in and found her mother lying dead on the carpet. Police told her she had alcohol poisoning. Luke came for the funeral. He stayed with Harley for a while and she gave him some cash for the future. Now living by herself in the house her family had lived in and loved so long ago, she wrote to her father about her death. Receiving no reply, she was concerned about him and she rang up. Upon getting the guard she was referred to the councilor.

They told her the bad news. Her father had been murdered. One of the inmates he was sharing with mauled him to death after finding out the police officer Henry killed was his brother in law. They told her Cecilia knew, they had called her a couple of days before hand. So in the space of a week, she was now orphaned. Her 18th birthday was one spent on the couch eating chips and watching a black and white movie. The only time Luke visited was when he had run out of money for his rehab fees. Sending a couple of grand each time, she really though that rehab was going to make him better.

She was wrong. Finding out that he was lying to her, he had been spending all that money she had given him at the casinos. Gambling away her trust in him. After that she broke contact with him. He didn't try to call her or come visit. She assumed he had been so ashamed he'd left. A police call ended that hope. They had found his body in a dumpster. A drug deal gone bad and he was shot. After all those blows in a row, she decided to invest a little of her money. The rest was so she could go back to college. But this time it was to be a doctor.

Years later on her graduating day, she walked out and received her doctorate. Dr. Quinzel. She felt great, now she could help other people. Quickly finding a job at Arkham Asylum as an assistant, she was shown around the ward. Her supervisor Janet was showing her the ropes. Giving her instructions, tips and pointers. As they were walking down the corridor, she noticed a particular patient sit up and take a whole lot of interest in her. His face was in the shadows, but she knew who he was. She had seen him all over the news. The one even the gangsters and the mob feared. Joker. But here in Arkham he was called by his real name. Jack Napier. His attire was confiscated and locked in the back of the ward along with all the other psychos in here. They all gave her the creeps, but she really wanted to help people. They had warned her. Told her horror stories of what happened to people who come. Tales and legends she thought. But she still had that tingling chill up her spine. Something she couldn't quite place. Still it was a job, and a job that she really wanted. And damn wasn't she going to impress them!

She stopped and stared at the man. He stepped out of the shadows and she really saw his face. Pale white skin, shocking green hair and that grin. Oh that horrific terrible beautiful grin. It thrilled her, right down to her bones. His eyes lingered on her still form and she smiled a little. "Well hello beautiful..." His raspy voice said behind the glass sheathed cell. Swallowing down fear and dread and a little excitement, she nodded her head once and turned, walking away. She could still feel his gaze on her even when she shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief.


	2. Chapter 2

Stepping out of the hot steamy shower and wrapping the massive comfy towel around her slender body, Harlequin wiped the mirror, quietly humming to herself. Pale creamy skin, pink pouty lips, wide blue eyes with high cheekbones under bright blonde long hair stared back. Smiling, her eyes crinkled and revealed pearly white straight teeth. Letting out a chuckle, she dried herself off.

Gliding over to grab her cell from the call she was supposed to be waiting on, her towel slipped to the floor. She flipped the phone open and pressed it to her ear. A honey coated sweet voice tinkled out. "Rouge Purple to Rouge Red, come in." The blonde arched a brow at his incessant need to feel in control, but apparently the enthusiasm, or lack of, pissed the Clown Prince off. "HARLEY! I can't seem to hear just how into this you are! Perhaps you should remind yourself the next time you pick up the phone. Now quit being a little bitch and get your ass down here before I cut you a new one." His tone wasn't to be trifled with.

"If you don't watch your tone with me, I'll have fun _myself_." She twirled around once and then checked herself out in the mirror, eyes glinting with unsaid promise. "And it's Harlequin." Hiss back into the phone, hating how people didn't seem to take to her name. She wasn't just some blonde bimbo, oh no, she was _Harlequin_, Clown Queen of Crime! No one told her what to do without consequences.

He cleared his throat and smiled. "My apologies sweet cheeks, I guess I could just stand here and watch you checking out yourself in the mirror. That succulent ass just waiting for me to spank it... Those long legs of yours, wrapped around my waist and perfect lips waiting to be bitten..." Blue eyes glinted dangerously, passing a hard smile and a slap to her ass before hanging up.

Chuckling, he watched her from across the building. Knowing she wouldn't be able to see him he winked at her anyways. She always brought a smile to his face. The lovely Dr. Quinzel. The woman who he could truly be himself with. The woman he loved. Hanging up, he shrunk back into the shadows.

Eyes falling upon the guy in the corner, the blonde walked over and kicked him, the sound of a muffled cry evident in her smile. Raising an un-approving eyebrow she scolded him. "Best to tell me everything I want to know when you're asked. Or else, you'll never see daylight again. But you already know that, don't you?" The threat was quite clear in her sweet voice. He let out another desperate cry, but he was silenced when she sent her fist across his face. His head hit the ground, completely unconscious.

And then she was waltzing back into her wardrobe, to the section at the back, holding all her costumes, weapons and accessories. Zipping up her red and black leather trade outfit, complete with white/black makeup and jester hat, she took on a whole new demeanor. Glancing at her reflection quickly she saw the glint in the corner of her eye as she dragged the guy out the door and to her car, being careful of any civilians. Sure, she didn't and really wouldn't car if they saw her, only she didn't want to be interrupted with cops chasing after her. This was a small job and could be done quickly without too much effort.

Revving the car, she sped off in the direction to their hideout and skidded to a halt parking nicely between the two tanks. Quickly making sure no one followed or was watching them, she hauled the man over her shoulders and snuck in. Once inside, the musty rank odor filled her nose and she coughed. Mumbling to find a better hideout that didn't smell so bad next time, she flicked the switch and lit up the large room. Sheets of metal roofing were strewn across the concrete walls and wood bordered up the broken windows letting only little bits of light from the outside world in. Grabbing a chair she slumped their captive down and waited.

She didn't have to wait long; there was a loud bang and a cackle. Spinning around she smiled. With a wide grin on his face he sauntered forward towards her, leaning in so close to her face. Her lip trembled a little as his hot breath brushed her ear. "I'm so glad you made it." Her voice came out silky and low, she could almost hear her chest rumbling. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, J." The Clown reached a hand over to grab at her. His red lips came down harshly to suck and bite at her neck and throat. A soft moan escaped her lips and her hips rocked up on instinct, before she found herself wet and aching just to be taken.

Licking at her mouthwatering skin, paint and sweat swiped across his tongue, the best taste in the world, he decided. Well maybe perhaps the taste of victory came first. He threw Harlequin back at the wall behind her, almost as suddenly as he had first moved to her. Muttering to himself about blondes and monsters, he slid over to the wriggling man, desperate to get away from the obviously insane maniac.

Harlequin stood and watched on. Watched how the man just begged for his life, like that was going to help him. Oh no, what they wanted, he could only give by dying. The thought made her eyes glint. That wicked grin came back to grace across her lips and she sauntered forward.

He held something far more precious. Let's just say that her loyalty not only lied with the psychotic handsome Clown.

And hence forth, the interrogation began. Joker had only given this to her, because she held that charm that no one else could manage. She intrigued him to no end. He was more of the dedicated leader than a follower, but just this once. It was a nice change. He watched her, almost like a shadow. Sizing up its meal. It almost made him shiver. _Almost_.

Long, hard and enigmatic – The capture was one thing, the interrogation was another, but even more so was the anticipation of the kill. Torturing another being had its perks, which why it was so much fun to the insane. Something to play with. To entertain themselves with. But when it was time, when you got bored of playing, then only does the fun really begin. To watch the life leave the body, to know that you've taken away their very breath. The last thing they'll ever hear is whatever you say, the malicious look in your eyes as you watch on with delight, and finally when they take their last breath – then, and only then can you get off to how it feels.

Not just a quick splash of blood, homicidal depression. No, something more. Certainly something close to feeling like 'Death'. The whole power and all. Choosing who lives and dies.

But no one is immortal. No one can live a life like that and not get away with it.

So when she finally played with her food, like a little child, she moped, forced a quick petty line, and then slashed his throat wide open, watching the crimson stain his uniform. She had all she needed. And now had the release that she'd been wanting, of being so worked up – Joker met her lips, rather impressed with how she had handled herself. But then again, Joker knew that Harlequin was nothing like he'd ever seen. No, she was something different. Even he wasn't stupid enough to pass that. Harleen though, oh she was a sweet gal. His other side liked her a lot. Good couple too.

His eyes only held this other female Clown. And boy wasn't she just as good as they get. It was like on some instinctual level she knew exactly what others wanted or needed. And she couldn't say no.

It wasn't just their lips that joined. Joker had her pinned up against the old wooden walls, pounding into her relentlessly, nails digging into her hips. Her leather gloves were stained with blood, and she brought it up to her lips, once breaking the kiss with him – her pink tongue darted out to lick at the delicious red. Joker was fascinated with her own fire for others blood. It's what made her shine above all the rest.

Loud gasps and moans dragged through the small room, as her eyes darted over to the dead guy, Joker's name on her lips as she finally came, long and hard. He came even harder, filling the blonde with his come, claiming her as his. Reluctantly pulling out, he zipped himself back up and watched her smooth down her leather and then smooched a black kiss on the dead guys lips before gracefully slipping back out into the world.

Joker blinked once. Then twice. His thoughts weren't exactly in a neat row. One thought was how she kept doing that to him. The other was that didn't that mean that he was being used? And the third was that he fancied himself to lead rather than take orders, and he wasn't used to that at all. Not that he minded, well he did, but for her he didn't. But at the same time, he hated it. Hated her for being so….._her_. Gritting his teeth, he growled loudly and before he could stop himself or even think about what he was doing, Joker had his flick knife out and slicing a massive grin into his cheeks and then all over his body, releasing all his built up anger.

Harlequin vanished once on the drive back home, leaving Harleen devastated and hurt once more. The blonde got cleaned up, showered and was lying in bed, knowing she couldn't keep going with this for too much longer. She'd get caught sooner or later and her emotion health? Wasn't getting any better.


	3. Chapter 3

**A Far Fetching Tale – A New Beginning**

It wasn't until a few more incidents later that Harlequin finally pushed a little too hard. And Joker responded, the only way he could. With dark actions, that fateful night. It was the worst and best night so far.

Not only did everyone now know exactly who she was. Well her career thrived on it. And the staff and colleges at Arkham were either too scared and lived in fear if they fired her, but also knew that Harleen was a brilliant Doctor, that she charmed her way through the other Doctor's and actually helped her patients, unlike others there. Many speculations over Jonathan Crane were rumored, but never were denied. She didn't find the man very interesting, he kept to himself, but often glared at her in the hallways when passing.

But it also meant that her relationship with Joker was steadily falling apart. Harlequin new she couldn't use Joker to her advantage anymore. And just like a quiet snake, she would wait patiently and silently for it again, to favor her, before striking. Devastation would always follow. It always did with her.

Anyone would think that the relationship between Harleen and Harlequin were the same. You'd think wrong. Harlequin is what you'd call a 'demon' living inside Harleen. Poor sweet innocent Harleen. She really couldn't help it at all. And you really wouldn't exactly like to say no to someone who could kill you in without thinking, only to the fact that you share the same body. But Harlequin was working on that.

No. It wasn't until that moment when Joker pushed her out of that plane. When she was spinning around in such a flurry, that she knew she was aligned to something far bigger. And then Batman swooped in and caught her from certain death. It wasn't until then, safe in his strong arms that her feelings changed. Once enemies before this last incident, always throwing punches and bickering, almost like a married couple. Their fights filled with blood, taunts and promises. Harlequin hated Batman more than she hated Harleen, and that was saying something.

But Harleen soon fell in love with Batman, and all that he stood for. So for once in her life, the blonde won that argument. Once safe, he plopped her down, waiting for her to swing another punch or insult, telling him she didn't need help and that the next time he wouldn't be so lucky as to walk away, or something of the sort, when she looked star stuck towards him. He blinked, and suddenly didn't know what to do. Which made him uneasy. "Do I need to take you back to Arkham, this time to the cells, or are you going to drop the act and take a hold of your life?" He had to give her a choice. And especially since the look in her eyes weren't filled with defiance this time.

Harleen nodded and smiled softly. "Thank you. I know it's a lot to ask, but I appreciate it. I hope I don't see you again." Her words held a silent promise, hoping she wouldn't, but then again – and she reached out to touch his cheek. "But I hope I do." Before he could react, she spun around and disappeared out of sight from the docks they had landed on. Only Harleen didn't hear the whispered words of promise from his own mouth before creeping back into the shadows to keep watch over his City.

The next morning when Harleen awoke, she dressed in her grey pencil skirt, peach blouse, black rimmed glasses and heels and drove to work with a smile on her red lips. Once at her desk, and skimming thought paper work, files and notes, she sighed a little and rubbed at her now tired eyes, desperately needing coffee. And with that thought, she got up and headed out to the common room. Her heels clicked and clacked on the concrete, her off white coat blowing a little behind her as she walked, deep in thought about Batman and his own actions the last night, only before slamming straight into something solid.

A small cry escaped her lips and was about to fall right on her ass, when strong arms caught her, holding her still against his body. His soft voice in her ear sent a delightful shiver down her spine. "Are you alright Miss?" She swallowed down, a little embarrassed about how clumsy she was. You wouldn't have figured that a woman of her status was a complete klutz, but here she was stumbling over her own feet. "I- I uh, thanks." She held herself steady with the help of his biceps. Looking up into his eyes, she gasped loudly, eyes wide, a shiver sliding down her spine and something tightening in her stomach.

_Those eyes_! So familiar, extraordinary, but frightening. Something briefly flickered into her own blue pools, but then it was gone, not realizing who he was until he let go of her and she could see his name badge pinned to his exquisite suit.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Mr. Wayne, my apologies. I didn't see you, too busy caught up in my own head, and I didn't mean to – and who really would bump into you if they knew who you were. Then again, who doesn't know who you are, because you're only the _Bruce Wayne_." She didn't even have a moment to catch her breath and kept going, because she was too flustered with his eyes watching her so intently. "Fuck, sorry, I called you Bruce without meaning too. Then said 'fuck', and then I was too busy thinking about someone else and th—"

She was cut off with her incessant babbling when he put his finger to her lips. Looking at him with wide eyes, she bit her tongue and waited.

"It's fine, really." He chuckled at the colour on her cheeks. And then he looked down at his finger on her plump and delicious looking lips. There was an ache, deep inside his chest, that one moment of longing to just kiss her then and there. But then she broke the moment and looked down at his finger on her lips, making him laugh because it crossed her eyes funnily. He took his digit away and grinned. "It seemed you needed help being quiet."

He expected her to laugh, maybe throw a line his way admitting that she talked a lot and then would blush and he'd hear her girly laugh, but instead, she frowned and grit her teeth. He could almost see her forcing herself to be polite. He was shocked, and then it turned into something of delight mixed with curiosity. "I'm not some stupid bimbo; I know how to shut up. Sheesh, take a compliment when you see it." The frown lessened and she put her hands into her pockets. "Now, can I help you?" He grinned a little and nodded. "Actually, yes. I was looking for you. You're Harleen, right?"

This time it was her turn to be shocked. She masked it well enough though and straightened up. "It's _Doctor Quinzel_, and what is it that you'd like from me?"

Bruce had to bite his tongue from telling her exactly what he really wanted to do to her; he was here on work business, not leisure. "Since Wayne Enterprises funds Arkham, we need to know what its staff gets up to and if they're actually doing their jobs. Patients need to be tended to. I was told that you're second Chief of Psychology here? Perhaps you could show me around the place, fill me in some more."

Harleen blinked. "Why didn't they get Crane to come and help you out? He's head of Psychology." She frowned and didn't notice the dark shadow in his own blue eyes that flickered across his face, before giving a little shrug. "Oh well, his loss. Now you're stuck with me." Flashing that bedazzling grin of hers at him, she tugged him along. He walked willingly alongside her, looking around the place.

"This is 'Level A Ward', it's for the more serious patients in the Asylum. Basically those who can't or won't communicate with us, and those who are dangerous not only to staff or others but themselves as well." Bruce nodded and then frowned, stopping to look into the cell. In his cot, with his back to them, was a little boy, no more than six years old, was clothed only in a straight jacket. Harleen caught the look on Bruce's face, and a pang of pain sliced her heart.

"He's one of my patients." Bruce turned to look at her looking at the little boy almost…_lovingly_? "Charlie Cranston. Lovely little boy. I met him a couple of times before the incident. Always smiling and bouncing off the walls, like any kid would. I took to him after we first met, and when I suddenly got his file…" The blonde trailed off, sadness clear in her eyes. "What happened?" Wayne turned to look back at Charlie, wondering what could have possibly done this to such an innocent boy.

It took a moment before she answered but when she did; Bruce could hear the certainty in her voice. "His baby sister was murdered right in front of him, and then one night soon after, he snapped. Killed his parents while they slept. Told police his baby sister's spirit told him to do it." She fell silent and placed a hand to the glass as if to touch the boy to help calm him. And then she sighed. "I believe him. But I can't prove his actions. I know the parents killed the little girl, I believe that her spirit pushed him to take vengeance."

She sounded so sure, Bruce almost believed with her. _Almost_. But there was no such thing as ghosts and spirits… Right? He shook his head. "You sound like you know how it feels to take vengeance?" He raised a questioning eyebrow towards the blonde, waiting to see what she would do. Instead she dropped her hand, and took on a blank expression, her ocean eyes far away. Then turned and kept walking.

The male frowned even harder and caught pace with her once more.

"So, I assume you've kept him on some kind of medication?" He probed her to keep with the tour. "Yes, unfortunately. A boy so young, the medication he's being given will most likely give him brain damage by the time he's eighteen. Since his brain is still developing, the drugs will…rot his cortex." Harleen came to a stop at the end of the hallway, and then turned back to Bruce. "I wish I could help him other than just telling him I'm here for him. I wish I could take away his pain, his fear. I wish he would speak to me. I used to be so in tune with people. Read them like books."

This time, Harleen noticed the flicker behind Bruce's eyes; perhaps she wasn't as far off as she thought. "Is that a good thing…or bad?" It took a moment for her to respond. "Perhaps both."

Then silence.

Harleen wasn't willing to add anything to that, and Bruce wasn't going to break the silence, sneaking glances when the other thought they weren't looking. And then Bruce spoke up recalling what she had said earlier. "He must have really caught your eye, huh?" The Doctor blinked and then passed him a confused glance. "You said you were thinking of someone when you nearly toppled us both over. Not to mention the massive smile on your lips too."

Suddenly she was flustered…and stuttering. "I- I well, he's.." She tried to find the right word to even _describe_ him, but she couldn't and stood blank. "Like that, eh?" He asked, getting a nod in response. "He just kinda _swooped_ in…" But her smile fell short and she sighed. "I don't think he would go for a gal like me anyways." Bruce snorted. "Why's that then?" Tilting his head, he hoped that she would give a good excuse, and again, was startled when she blurted out the near truth. "I'm not who you think I am. I'm not a good person. But I'm trying to make amends. I want peace."

Bruce could see it then, how true her words meant. Not just them being words, but the powerful emotion _behind_ them. That's what he wanted to hear. So he just nodded with a smile. "I think he felt it too. He'd be lucky to have a woman like you, what's life worth living if you don't at least try, hmm?" She blinked, then blushed and bumped his shoulder playfully with her own. "That's usually one of _my_ lines. But thanks." So they kept walking, down more corridors and looking in on other patients.

It wasn't until they came back to her office that he finally broke that silence. "Thank you Dr. Quinzel, it's nice to know that some Doctors are trying to actually help their patients rather than becoming more like them."

The blonde's brows knitted together, confused for a moment, or rather deep in thought, but she nodded. How wrong he was in her case. He stuck out his hand, shook with hers and then left with a last glance back over his shoulder. Harleen quickly looked away from where she was watching him and entered her office, her cheeks flushing red from being caught staring. Bruce chuckled and rounded the corner, quickly leaving the establishment.

It wasn't until Harleen was back in her office, leaning against the door that she let out a sigh. He definitely wasn't like how they described him in the papers. Charming, handsome and elusive Mr. Wayne. Hmm. She had spilled more than she usually had to most of her colleges.

It suddenly hit her.

Why would she do that?


End file.
